


Better than Good

by LadyKnightOfHollyrose



Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, M/M, University, iwatobi white day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 05:36:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1334014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKnightOfHollyrose/pseuds/LadyKnightOfHollyrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[17:47] A certain annoying little bird told me it’s moving day for you; how’s the weather in Tokyo?</p><p>[17:49] Oh yeah, speaking of I think Mikoshiba said he was in the same area as you. Why don’t you drop him a line?</p><p>(Or, Makoto's away from home for the first time, and Mikoshiba lends a helping hand. As any good senpai should.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better than Good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [risotto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/risotto/gifts).



> Written as part of **[Iwatobi White Day 2014](http://iwatobiwhiteday.dreamwidth.org)**

It has only been about an hour since his family has left when the steady stream of music coming from his mobile is interrupted by the beep of an incoming mail. Makoto looks up from where he is introducing his tableware to its new home and almost trips over a stray box as he lumbers across the room to retrieve it.

> _[17:47] A certain annoying little bird told me it’s moving day for you; how’s the weather in Tokyo?_

> _[17:49] Oh yeah, speaking of I think Mikoshiba said he was in the same area as you. Why don’t you drop him a line?_

Makoto blinks at the phone number that follows in a third message, trying to think back to the last time he had seen Mikoshiba.

Back when Mikoshiba had still been at Samezuka, they had spoken fairly regularly as the captains of their respective school teams. Their conversations had tended to revolve around things like practice schedules, training menus and tournaments. Makoto had been lucky that the older boy had been so willing to share his knowledge really; while their little rag tag team might have been able to muddle along fine without any guidance in the club’s first year, when other students started to show an interest in joining after they had been disqualified from the prefectural tournament, his guidance had helped Makoto keep his head.

Still, with Mikoshiba being in his final year of high school when they had met, they hadn’t had a lot of opportunity to speak in a capacity that went beyond swimming. There had been the time when Nagisa had pestered Rin into joining them for hot pot at Coach Sasabe’s; since Mikoshiba and Nitori had been nearby at the time, Makoto had extended the invitation to the two of them as well. It had ended up being an eventful evening, to say the least.

Then there had been that one beach party held at the end of the year to send off the third years. Makoto distinctly remembers Rin chasing the taller redhead into the sea, squawking indignantly about _not ogling his bikini clad little sister_ thank you very much.

Lips curling up in amusement at the memory, Makoto fires off a quick reply for Rin before he wades back through the mess of half emptied boxes lining the floor to get back to the kitchen.

All things considered, Mikoshiba probably has better things to do than show around a clueless freshman that he barely knows from his hometown anyway; Makoto doesn’t want to make the other feel obligated to him, after all.

Turning his attention back to the conundrum before him, he focuses instead on how accessible his current arrangement of plates, bowls and cups leave his saucepan.

It doesn’t take long for the text message to slip his mind entirely.

—

Makoto has always thought himself to be a fairly independent person; he’s always done his chores and pulled his own weight. Some would even argue that he does more than his fair share, opting to help others out if they need it.

Staring at the various boxes of curry spice in the conbini, Makoto laments the fact that this assumption of his is very _very_ wrong.

Boxes upon boxes of different brands, flavours and colours line the shelves, and Makoto isn’t even sure what degree of spiciness his mother usually buys at home.

Makoto’s very aware of the fact that he’s not particularly gifted when it comes to cooking; it’s something that he had accepted very early on in life, and had even (briefly) earned Haru’s ire for when he’d attempted to cook his friend breakfast one morning and had ‘wasted a perfectly good mackerel’. Even so, he had figured that surely boiling a few vegetables and crumbling in a block of curry seasoning couldn’t be _that_ difficult.

Aparently not.

Heaving a sigh, Makoto retrieves his phone from his jeans, thumbing through his contacts with the intention of just calling home and asking his mother to send a picture of the one she usually buys.

He’s just about to hit ‘call’ when a shout of his name jerks him out of his reverie.

Makoto glances over his shoulder, scanning the isle until his eyes finally fall upon a familiar figure; Mikoshiba Seijuurou ambles over, a surprised grin stealing over his features as he raises a hand in greeting.

“Tachibana,” he says again, a hand clasping Makoto’s shoulder, “how’s it going?”

“Mikoshiba-bu-” he stumbles over the honorific for a second, belatedly remembering that it’s probably not the right one to use anymore before correcting himself; ”um, –san,” Makoto can feel an embarrassed flush start to creep up his throat.

“Just call me Seijuurou,” Mikoshiba says easily enough. His eyes flick down, catching the way Makoto’s hands are still hovering in indecision; one stretched out towards a random box of curry spice and the other still on his phone. His grin turns knowing in an instant.

“Ah, my young kouhai.” There’s a slight spark in his amber eyes now; Makoto can’t help but raise a brow and feel slightly concerned for himself. “You have much to learn about the art of living out for university… But fear not! I won’t lead you astray.”

The little flourish that accompanies the words startles a dubious chuckle out of him. “Well, I guess I’ll be in your care then.”

Mikoshiba has even more knowledge to impart, it seems, because he brings up essentials that Makoto hasn’t even considered. By the time they leave, Makoto’s bought way more than he’d expected to. But, it also means that he won’t have to run out to make emergency supply runs at odd times of the day so he’s not too put out by this.

They drop off Makoto’s spoils at his small apartment, and then Mikoshiba insists on treating Makoto to lunch.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” he says cheerfully when Makoto attempts to protest. “You can buy next time, when you haven’t just burned a hole through your wallet.”

Nothing beats the green curry that his mother makes, but the one he has that day comes in very close at second.

—

His first week of classes is as hectic as expected; maybe even more so with all of the socialising that comes along with meeting his course mates.

Meeting new people is fun, and he’s had some interesting conversations already. Having said that, having to introduce himself over and over gets tiring rather fast and the sheer _size_ of the university is a little overwhelming when he thinks of the floods of people coming and going every day.

Karaoke and eating out with his classmates is a great way to get to know people, but between getting used to the exhausting pace of life in the city and trying to navigate campus with enough time to get to his classes on time, Makoto feels drained by the time he finally gets home.

On the one day that he forgets to silence his phone is, typically, the day that it decides to go off in the middle of class. He’s lucky that the lecturer is laid back enough to have his first lesson be an ice breaker, so the only one to notice is the girl sat to his right who has her nose glued to her own phone.

> _[11:08] So is life in the city as exciting as you thought it’d be? How’re classes?_

He sends a short reply under the desk that somehow sparks a long conversation that spans the next week or so, and by the time Makoto realises that classes have started for real he’s been distracted long enough to have fallen into a natural rhythm without having had the chance to feel home sick.

—

> _[08:43] Tell me you don’t have plans today_

Makoto groans, still half asleep. After a long, overdue catch up with Haru, he’d decided it would be a great night to try to make up for lost time with his gaming since he hadn’t anticipated an early morning.

> _[08:50] if I agre e to go with you will u let me sleep?_

The response is almost instantaneous.

> _[08:50] Be ready for 10:30 sharp!_

Makoto mutters something unflattering under his breath and rolls over.

He’s only just joining the world of the wakeful in bed when Mikoshiba shows up half an hour early. Makoto’s hair is a mess and his shirt is still half twisted around his torso from wriggling around in his sleep when he answers the door with a yawn; the older boy bounces in with a wide smile, waving around a coffee to-go cup and breakfast.

The bribe of food and caffeine is enough to make Makoto snap into action, gesturing for Mikoshiba – ‘I thought I told you to call me Seijuurou?’ – _Seijuurou_ to take a seat and make himself at home while Makoto gets himself ready.

(Makoto’s so busy trying to be a good host and not grumble about how Samezuka alumni should learn to sleep in every once in a while that he misses the way Seijuurou’s eyes linger on his ruffled state.)

It’s later, as they’re boarding the train that Seijuurou reveals the motive of the trip.

“My sister’s birthday is coming up and she’s always complaining about my taste in gifts.” He wrinkles his nose, disgruntled at the thought. From what he’s heard, Makoto gathers that the Mikoshiba siblings are wont to snark at each other at any given opportunity, but are close for the most part.

Still, that doesn’t really explain why _he_ needs to be here.

“Oh, well, I have it on good authority that you’re great at picking gifts for sisters.”

Makoto rolls his eyes. “For _younger_ sisters, maybe, and even then I wouldn’t say-”

“It’s okay she has the mental age of your sister so it’ll be fine.” Seijuurou waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll treat you to something while we’re out to make up for it.”

Makoto rolls his eyes but stops arguing – he knows a lost cause when he sees one.

—

> _[14:33] So I think I might have found somewhere you can take Nagisa when they visit that won’t completely bankrupt Rei._

> _[14:35] I don’t know if the food’s any good but it smelled nice walking by?_

> _[14:36] Want to check it out tonight?_

Makoto grins down at his phone, tapping out an affirmative.

Then he goes back to squinting through his glasses to try and catch the miniscule writing on the board. Hikaru, one of the friends he’s made on his course, shakes his head and thrusts his own notes forward for Makoto to copy from. Makoto gives him a grateful smile, earning him a roll of the eyes in response.

He doesn’t get the chance to thank him until the lecture is over and they’re packing their things away; Hikaru just shrugs him off with a smirk.

“Well, I couldn’t just let you fall behind cause you were too busy texting your girlfriend, could I?”

Makoto opens his mouth to reply, before pausing. “Wait, my what..?”

—

He manages to get through dinner with minimal awkwardness – Seijuurou has a way of being so ridiculously friendly that it’s actually difficult to _not_ relax around him – and has a lot of fun, like he usually does around his friend.

As soon as he gets home, he dials Haru’s number.

“So let me get this straight,” Haru says slowly. It’s as though he’s chewing over the words before saying them. “You like him. But you don’t know if you’re dating already.” His tone is the flattest Makoto’s heard for a while; the ‘you’re an idiot’ doesn’t need to be tacked on to the end for Makoto to realise it’s implied.

“ _Haru_ ,” he whines, “What should I _do_?”

It’s bad enough that he hadn’t even _realised_ how fond he’s been getting of Seijuurou; he’d looked up to him as a senpai already anyway, but now Makoto’s gotten to know him. He knows he takes his coffee with no milk and a sugar, but actually prefers green tea; can recognise the slight crease at the corner of his eye that means he’s about to tell an _unbearably awful_ joke, the weird pucker of his lips when he’s thinking hard about something. Makoto’s always been something of a people watcher, so noticing the little details hadn’t been something that would tip him off.

Still, it doesn’t help that now that he’s thinking about it, all of their outings – apart from maybe the shopping runs, but _even then_ – _could_ have been dates.

Even their _banter_ could be seen as flirting. Or Makoto could be overthinking things. As he is prone to do when worrying about something.

“Talk.”

“…What?”

 “I said talk to him.” Haruka huffed irritably at having to repeat himself. “And don’t assume anything, it causes misunderstandings.”

“Oh.”

—

“Wait, what?”

Makoto stared, slack jawed as Seijuurou rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I mean, we don’t have to; I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. Actually, you know what? Forget I said anything; I still want to be able to hang out with you as friends so I-”

Makoto’s still kind of in shock so Seijuurou’s rambling kind of washes over him until he hears ‘forget I said anything’. At which point he forces his mouth shut, and tries to think of a way to get Seijuurou to shut _his_ mouth.

(He knows how he’d _like_ to shut his mouth, but they kind of have a table between them.)

Seijuurou’s already moved on to muttering under his breath, and Makoto manages to catch the tail end of it which sounds something like ‘never listening to that brat Rin again’ before finally cutting him off.

“What if I don’t want to forget you said it?”

“…What?”

Now that he’s heard Seijuurou’s side of things, Makoto can’t help but feel a swell of confidence.

“I said I don’t want to forget you said it. I was just surprised because… well, I guess you stole my thunder.”

Seijuurou lets out a startled bark of laughter, as Makoto had known he would. He reaches out, tentatively placing his hand over Makoto’s where it rests on the table.

“Wow, this feels kind of anticlimactic after all of that worrying.”

“…Would you prefer a bit more drama?” Makoto’s eyes are alight with mischief. “I could probably ask Nagisa for some inspiration, with as many as he’s had to sit through with his sisters.”

Seijuurou cringes at the thought – he’s had to sit through a fair few of his own, in his time – but grins when he feels Makoto’s fingers lace through his own. “Nah, I think we’re good.”

(Later that night just before they have to go their separate ways at the train station, Seijuurou pulls Makoto into a soft, but very enthusiastic kiss; it leaves them both thinking that they’re definitely _better_ than just good. But maybe they should practice a few more times, just to be sure.)

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been meaning to write a Uni!AU for these two for an absolute age, so when I saw the prompt for the two of them I just had to write this ^^ Though it didn’t take the direction I thought it would? Anyway, this should be a little more coherent than the version posted to IwatobiWhiteDay since I’ve had the chance to edit it now, but feel free to point out if you do spot any mistakes.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading!


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